World of Salem
by PangeaCosplay
Summary: [APH x Town of Salem X-Over] America, England, and Japan reveal a new game coining the use of the Romulus Rift to launch its players into a feigned world of arson, murder, deceit and mystery. Which nations will find themselves involved? When the Mafia and a serial killer are clawing at their throats, will they be able to crack the case of unknown identities or will they die trying?
1. Chapter 1

**.:Chapter One:.**

| : | The Invitation| : |

* * *

"Ready, bros? You ready?"

A hand hesitantly wavered over a lever.

"Yes, Mr. America. We are ready."

"Are you sure, Japan? All the wires plugged in, y'know, circuts up to date? Drivers updated?"

"Quit with that technical babble, you idiot, we're ready."

"No, no, Eyebrows, you don't understand, like I don't want all of the power in Washington to go out and then Mr. Pres comes up all 'angry noises and healthcare', are we _ready_?"

A second hand slapped away the first as it's owner cried, "Just pull the damn lever!"

_Click!_

A series of machines became audibly animated. They hummed in a chorus and a monitor flickered to life; three words flashed in a fancy scrawl across the screen:

World of Salem

* * *

"... What exactly was the purpose of that line break?"

"What exactly are you talking about, dude?"

"I believe it is for dramatic effect, Mr. England."

"Dramatic effect? It's a bloody _line_!"

"Bro, what are you guys talking about? What line?"

"Nothing, it's adult talk. The game's loaded, but I think we're going to need some more players."

"You are correct… America-_san, _is it alright if we invite more nations to your house to play?"

"Uhh, yeah, sure! Whatevs. I'll text everyone on my contact list now!"

"No, no, let me do it. Otherwise no one's going to show up…"

"Please ask Mr. France."

"Fine. Sent."

* * *

The curtains on America's windows were drawn back, allowing sunlight to cast warm hues across the living room. A flatscreen was connected to an odd-looking console, where many helmet-like goggles were strewn about a pile of controllers.

England and Japan scooted a pair of tables into place behind a ring of sofas that faced the television. America hauled a computer tower under each arm, sneering towards the others at his blatant display of strength as he mounted them atop the tables.

Chairs were settled in front of the television; fifteen.

"Anything else we forgetting?" America dusted off his palms and planted his fists on his hips.

"_Are we forgetting anything else, _you uncultured swine." England stiffly folded his arms.

Japan didn't look up from where he was connecting the pair of computers America had carried. "Just the players. When will they be arriving, Mr. America?"

At that moment, the front door slammed open.

"_Hej_, guys! Guess who's here!"

Japan and England exchanged a glance.

America trot out of the living room with a mutter of, "_Nordics_, man."

A beat passed. "_Hej, _guys! Guess who's lost in this house!"

"W-Well, I guess that's what you get for not knocking!"

"Finland is right. You're so annoying."

"Well, _excuuuusse me, _Princess! Which one of these three hallways do you think we should take?"

"This one!" America's voice assured the island nations that the Scandinavians had been located. America reappeared with all five in tow just a moment later.

"Wow! Your house is really big, Mr. America!" Finland clasped his hands together, his eyes sparkling in awe. "Will we really get to play here on such a big TV?"

"A Panasonic GT60 Series." Sweden grunted, vaguely nodding in the direction of America's TV.

"Uhh, hell yeah!" America beamed. "Only the best for gaming! Sixty-five inch plasma all the way!"

"You losers know way too much about technology." Prussia emerged from America's bathroom, eating a granola bar.

The population of the living room simply gawked at the albino.

"... How did you get into my-"

"Prussia!" Hungary, followed [too closely] by Austria, stepped into America's living room. "_Wir haben gesagt, warten Sie!_"

"Please do not speak in German," Japan lifted his palms anxiously, "This is an English fanfiction."

Any confused noises were drowned under the loud rapping of a fist on the door. England stood up. "I'll get it this time."

It was a matter of heartbeats before Germany and the Italy brothers, accompanied by France, were settled on the sofas with the other nations.

"Who are we waiting on?" Iceland held shut the beak of his puffin. "Can't we start already?"

America glanced at his phone screen. "We still have ten minutes. I think there's some more Easterners coming?"

Five minutes consisting of chatting (and a bit of arguing) passed.

The doorbell rang.

"I have a doorbell?"

America lead the Asian nations and a rather groggy Russia into the living room. "Wow. You look _terrible, _Russia!"

Russia glowered and scrubbed at his eyes. "You must consider that I had to awaken at one in the morning to answer stupid text."

"Save your sob story for later, big guy. This'll be totally awesome and worth it. Who else, England?"

England scrubbed at his chin. "Ahh-"

The slow, long blast of a rifle was followed by the heavy metallic clattering of an automatic.

Many nations leapt to their feet; angry footsteps marched here and there before finally reaching the others.

Switzerland pulled a nervous Lichtenstein by the wrist into the room, fixing all of the nations under the nozzle of a rifle. Various weapons dangled off of his belt.

"We're here."

The nations, one by one, took their seats again.

"Can we get started?" England stood up, sweeping his gaze over the assembled nations. They glanced and murmured among themselves but nobody spoke up. "Right. In that case, I believe we shall begin. America?"

America nodded and hopped onto the table, his feet landing dangerously close to the monitors, and placed his hands on his hips.

He was barely graced the chance to suck in a gulp of air.

"If you laugh, I'll shoot you." Switzerland growled.

America glowered back. "How did you even get all of that through US airport security, anyways?"

"I have my ways." The Swiss cocked the barrel of his rifle, prompting America to continue.

"... Anywho…. With today's day and age, technology is expected to be totally cool and awesome. And it is! We-" America gestured to Japan and England, "-are proud to boast that we have developed a new game with the aid of the Romulus Rift, three all-nighters and at least twenty pounds worth of WcDonald's freedom fries."

China folded his arms and leaned forward where he sat. "And how much _money _went into this game?"

America was quick to reply, "Such legal information is not to be disclosed at this time."

England snorted and spoke up, "This game has not yet been released to the public. We wished to try it with fellow nations first to gauge if they believe that their people would enjoy it."

Murmurs rippled through those gathered.

"Ahh, so _we_ get to play the game?" Italy Veneziano spoke up, tipping his head to the side.

"No, _Napolitano _is going to play. Of course we're going to play, you idiot!" Italy Romano harshly rammed an elbow into Veneziano's side. He whipped his head around, scanning the sea of faces, and growled, "Did you not invite the tomato bastard?"

England visibly stiffened.

France and Prussia seemed to notice for the first time that he was missing, also joining Romano in looking around the room.

Japan stared at England, an all-knowing stare.

England shrugged a shoulder and grew embarrassed under his gaze. "W-Well, you said to invite _Frog-face. _You mentioned nothing about _Spain._ I'm sure he was busy, anyway."

France and Prussia exchanged a smirk and both pulled out their phones.

Romano scoffed and flopped back onto the couch, opening his arm around Veneziano. "Are you kidding? The guy would do anything to get away from his job! Invite him!"

"Ahh... You see-"

"Yeah, do it, dudes!" America drowned out England's stammering.

"Already done!" Francis waved his phone and crossed his legs.

"He'll be here soon." Prussia chimed, shoving his phone into a pocket.

"What if you do not want to play?" Germany spoke up, lifting a hand slightly.

"Or if we all end up wanting to play? There are fifteen controllers and manyof us." Taiwan piped in.

America flapped his wrists from where he stood. "Dudes, dudettes, _chillax_! There is a perfectly safe and rational solution to all of this!" The nation wrapped around and produced the lower half of an empty two-liter bottle. "We draw straws!"

A bullet whizzed by America's head. "_Are you insane?!_"

"You know, I am beginning to think that we all did not have to come. You invited far too many people." Russia stood up. "I am going home."

"American cuisine is pretty bland," Norway drawled, "How about we hit up France on our way home? I'm hungry."

"When was the last time we went drinking, France?" Gilbert tossed his granola wrapper at the Frenchman.

"No, China! Stay!" South Korea clung desperately onto China's wrist, his expression devastated. "This'll be worth it! Think about all of the reproducing we could do!"

America cast Japan and England a desperate glance. The pair stared back at him with growing apprehension.

"G-Guys-!" America tried, though the standing nations and quickly rising voices swallowed his voice.

Nations began to move towards the door.

America flailed his arms and cried out to them hopelessly.

It seemed as though all was lost.

The superpower collapsed onto his knees (missing the computers by a hair's length) and buried his face in his hands.

Suddenly, silence.

America looked up, blinking blearily.

"U-Uhh…" The voice of Spain drew America's, as well as the entire room's, attention. "I think this is yours?"

The Spaniard held a mortally wounded door sideways, his grip slipping as he knocked the wood into the walls and door frame of the room. "How did it get so many bullet holes…?"

"Spain! You're here!" Gilbert leapt to his feet. "Come, come here! We were just about to get started!"

Spain's eyes lit as he set down the door. "Ahh, Prussia! I'm glad I didn't miss anything; what's going on?"

"We'll be playing a game." Romano jerked his head. "Come sit already, you're such a distraction."

China sighed. "I do suppose getting to beat all of you younger nations in a game will be fun."

"As if!" Denmark sneered in his direction, "We Scandinavians will show you who are the _real _masters at video games!"

"What would be the fun in dreaming about your disappointed expressions if I can cause them here in real life?" Russia sat down and smiled.

America watched in awe as, one by one, the nations all took their seats and stared up at him expectantly.

England nudged him from behind; the American quickly found his feet again.

"So! Drawing straws?"

* * *

"Look, China! I got a colored straw!" South Korea failed to hide his overflowing excitement.

"Don't bring your family shame." China frowned and lifted his nose and leaned towards Hong Kong, whispering behind a hand, "_Destroy the Westerners."_

Sitting next to them, the Italy brothers chorused gasps, though Romano's was of horror and Veneziano's out of joy.

"Look, Romano! We did it!"

"I see that, _idiota_! Ugh, now I have to play with _you…_"

Across the room, Prussia let out a low, pained groan. "No _faaaiirrr, _West! You got a colored straw!"

Germany's fist tightened around the poor piece of plastic before he shoved the item into Prussia's hands. "It's yours. Take it."

Prussia didn't need to be told twice; he grabbed the straw and raced towards France and Spain. "_Oi_, you two! Look, look, look, look, look! I got one! I! got! one!"

Spain and France held up their straws and grinned. "Us, too!"

France held out a hand. "The BTT, _non_? Let's work together!"

"_Si!Clado!_" Spain placed his hand on France's.

"_Ja, _I wouldn't have it any other way!" Prussia joined the trio; they completed some failed attempt at a rallying hand gesture.

Austria glared in the direction of the triumphant Prussia.

Hungary placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Look at it this way, Austria; you'll have a chance to beat him now!"

Austria huffed. "I suppose. But what if I end up having to team up with him? Or go against you?"

Hungary shrugged and smiled, waving her straw. "That's the fun in a game, isn't it?"

The woman nodded politely to Russia seated next to her. "You're excited, aren't you?"

Russia's smile seemed a little bit too wide. "I will get great pleasure out of defeating all of you one by one."

Switzerland caught sight of Russia and edged towards Lichtenstein.

"This is going to be so fun, big brother!" Liechtenstein, oblivious to the Russian, tugged at Switzerland's sleeve with a tiny smile. "We get to play together!"

Switzerland placed his gun across his lap. "I'll protect you from those idiots, don't worry."

The Scandinavians crowded around Finland and Sweden.

"Awhhh, Sweden!" Denmark stomped a foot. "You're all of the luckies, hah? Why don'tchu trade with me?"

"No." Sweden held a firm eye contact with the Dane. "Because Finland is playing."

Finland squirmed awkwardly as Sweden's unwavering gaze fell onto him. "I-It'll be great fun, won't it, Sweden?"

"Bring the Scandinavians glory." Norway hummed, Iceland nodding at his words. Sweden and Finland returned the nod with confidence.

At the monitors, England leaned close to Japan and muttered, "Those authors really need to watch where they're flinging all of those line breaks. Someone might lose an eye."

America clapped England and Japan's shoulders. "So! You guys'll monitor the game, right?"

England and Japan exchanged a glance and nodded.

"It won't be a problem." Japan said.

"We'll do our best." England assured.

America turned to those who held their colored straws. "So that means that we're ready, doesn't it?"

While whispers and murmurs spread across the room, there were no objections.

He grinned widely.

"Then grab your Romulus Rifts and controllers and find a seat; we're about to begin!"

* * *

"What the honest-to-God hell is with the use of these stupid linebreaks?! Have I not already warned that someone's going to lose an eye if you authors keep slapping them everywhere like nobody's bloody business?! We do not need so many! You're putting them in such random places, you might as well put one in the middle of my-

* * *

"That's it. _I'm done. _Have you ever heard of a table-flip, Japan?"

"A-Ahh, yes, I have-"

"_Good, I'm going to flip these tables right now-!"_

"Mr. England, please calm down! These computers are needed to monitor the game, and they are quite expensive! We have to wrap up this chapter!"

"_Ghhhaaaaaggghhh-!"_

"... Mr. England, are you having difficulties lifting this table?"

"N-Not at all! I'm just… I'm… Hhhg, fine. Okay. What do we have to do?"

"A-Ah. Right. We have to give the readers a summary of the next chapter."

"Fine, whatever. The next chapter includes the tutorial and basic explanation of this game, that way those who have not played the game that this fanfiction is based off of will be able to follow along with the story. It involves arson and murder and stupidity. Oh, so _so_ much stupidity. Please be sure to drop by again soon."

"_H-Hai. _The authors appreciate you as the reader for reading this. Please return for the next chapter. _Sayonara._"


	2. Chapter 2

**.:Chapter Two:.**

| : | The Tutorial | : |

* * *

"Ahh, hello, again. England here. This chapter will consist of the introduction and beginning of the game. We will learn of which character gets which role, as well as what each role means. As we know, the characters who will participate are the Italy brothers, the Bad Touch Trio- is that really what they're calling themselves?- Switzerland and Liechtenstein, Austria and Hungary, Finland and Sweden, Russia, South Korea, and Hong Kong."

"Mr. America is also joining them. He wished to participate in this game."

"Right, right. The idiot is joining them; is there anything else we forgot to mention?"

"The author wishes to remind you that there will be no specific shippings or pairings. There may be hints if you squint."

"Ships? Those won't fit in here. I mean, first of all, they're huge and wooden- Japan, I do not understand."

"Without further ado, let us tune in to what our protagonists are up to."

"Oi, stop right there! There is _no need_ to insert a line break! Let us just look over considering they're _right bloody there!_"

The fifteen chosen players huddled around the television, a few placing on their Romulus Rifts and some idly fiddling with the controllers. America made his way before them and stood in front of the television, throwing open his arms. "Okay! To prevent any injury, please keep all face-like features inside of your helmet… thing. Don't flail or kick or anything; keep in mind it's just a game. If you shed a bunch of manly tears everywhere, you'll ruin the helmet. You're paying. Ahh, let's see… you'll use the controller to control your movements. Left analogue stick to select, right analogue stick to move. Move your head, and the scenery will move. Crazy, huh? Make sure not to go _too _crazy with this, or you'll give your neighbor a concussion. Still paying. A to confirm, B to return, yada yada.… Let's put on the helmets and start this baby up!"

America plopped down in line with the other sitting nations, throwing on his Romulus and grabbing a hold of the nearest controller. He stuck out his hand (nearly smacking Veneziano in the face) and gave England and Japan a thumbs-up. "Let 'er rip!"

England and Japan exchanged a glance. Japan pressed the power button on the tower; the monitors as well as the flatscreen all lit with the title of the game.

Collective murmurs of awe filled the room (joined by Prussia's annoyed snork).

"World of Salem!" China read. "How many TV channels did you have to scan through to steal that name?"

"Hah, hah, _funny, _Mr. _Sunbucks Coffee." _He blindly flopped a hand in the direction of China's voice. "Starting up, Japan?"

"_Hai." _The man rapidly typed a few more things before lifting his gaze to the flatscreen. "We will be monitoring you as you play. Mr. England, the headsets, please?"

England nodded and quickly swept up the pair of headsets, handing one to Japan as he placed his own on his head.

Japan reached to the side of his headset and switched it on. England dittoed this action. Many of the nations jumped as Japan's voice now reached them through the Romulus. "If you will reach up to the left side of your helmet you may activate the classic game-mode. Your voice will be projected through the helmet directly to the other players." As he spoke, many of the nations did just this and tested the feature through little whispers and excited gasps in a manner much akin to small children with walkie talkies. "This will be your main method of communication in the game, aided with your CC. We will get into this later. We are now ready to begin the tutorial. Mr. England?"

"Right." England leaned forward to his monitor. "You will enter the tutorial in three, two, one…"

LEDs decorating the faces of the helmets lit.

Spain wriggled and knocked helmets with France. America released a string of his signature obnoxious laughs and Veneziano squealed in terror.

"This…" England leaned into his microphone, his voice cold and serious, "is the game World of Romulus."

Japan cleared his throat. "Mr. America. Perhaps we should switch to your point of view so that the readers can understand what is happening?"

"... What?" America was confused. What were these readers that Japan and England kept mentioning? Odd.

He swept his gaze over his surroundings. When he reached the edge of his peripheral, he turned his head, and more sights scrolled into view. America couldn't help but release another peel of laughs; American technology was truly superior.

A few nations murmured excitedly to each other over the microphone, though America filtered them out with the same ease he used to filter out other nations during world meetings. America jostled the control stick and his character's hands lifted into view. It would never feel quite as realistic as his own body, but as with any video game, it was easy to get caught up in the body you played as (especially when the graphics were as awesome as they were now).

"Dude, we getting on with the tutorial or what?" America puffed.

"Right." England's voice reached his ears. "If you all will look around, this is your room in your house. It is the basement. Nobody but yourself may roam here."

America swept his gaze over the simple downstairs; a few oil lamps kept the room lit despite being below ground level. Two blank columns flanked a large white center face that bore a striking resemblance to a white board.

"_Mon Dieu… _how bland," France murmured. "Is there any customization allowed on the interiors?"

"_No, _there is _not. _Let me finish talking about the helmets." England snapped, though seemed to calm considerably as he continued. "The upper corners of your Romulus displays useful information such as connection strength, battery life, volume, and so on. Subtitles are optional, though still in beta."

"'Supposed to go fill in mesa'. Teehee!" Prussia was quite obviously reading off of said beta subtitles.

Hell, America remembered _programming _this game; he decided to walk over to the wardrobe and pull it open. A little bit of early customization never hurt anyone.

"England," Russia's voice reached America, "What is this white spot on wall?"

"Aren't you just the spitting image of a Sherlock?" England's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Yes, this wall is known as the Role Panel."

America pursed his lips and posed into the mirror of the wardrobe. Nah, curly pink hair and frilly maid outfits weren't his thing. He decided to make his character look as similar to himself as possible.

"On the left side of this wall, once the game starts, all of the available roles in this game match will be listed. On the right side, all of the players will be listed. Occasionally, and depending on your role, you will be able to interact with the names and roles shown. You may write or draw on the whiteboard any of your suspicions or conclusions."

"How do you use this stupid thing?" Romano's growl rumbled through the headsets.

"Oh! You just use your fingers to write!" Veneziano answered. "_Ve_~! This is so fun, I'm drawing a pasta dish!"

"Heh. I drew a dick." Prussia leered.

"Are we playing a round right now?" Asked Finland.

"Yes, we'll start now. You will all be randomly assigned a role. If you will, Japan."

A friendly chime hummed in the ears of all of the helmets. America barely spared the notification that the game had started a second glance; he pivoted around and stared intently at the wall.

In big green letters, the word '_Sheriff_' appeared just above the white of the Role Panel. America whooped extremely loudly. "Heeeelll _yeah_, I got an awesome role! What now, suckers!" He fist pumped outside of his helmet, earning a yelp from Austria.

"Watch where you're punching!" Austria hissed, though America was quick to ignore his words.

"If you will please spare a moment to look above the Role Panel." Japan was speaking now. "It lists your specific role. This can affect both you and the players around you."

"Hold on. Why is this game accusing me of Serial Killer, too?" Russia sounded more than a little spooked.

"I-I will not comment on the nature of your question. These are roles that were randomly assigned based on key traits of your personalities. We were hoping that by using roles that you would be comfortable with, you could get a hang of the game faster. Keep in mind that roles will otherwise be completely random after the tutorial."

"Veteran." Switzerland spoke flatly. "At least I get to use guns."

"Veteran?" It was difficult to discern if that note in Sweden's voice was disappointment or mirth. It was hard to discern anything about Sweden, really, America noted. "'m the Jailor."

America puffed into his microphone. "Uhh, hey, guys? You aren't supposed to, y'know, _tell _others who you are."

"We aren't?" Liechtenstein asked.

"No." England's voice again. "You are supposed to keep it to yourself, especially if you're an evil role, such as Serial Killer or Mafia. Take another look at your role. The color will help indicate if you are working for the town, the Mafia, an evil group or a unique role. There is more specific information available in the corner of your Romulus, such as 'benign evil' or 'town support'. Identify what you are and keep it to yourself; if you reveal that you are a Serial Killer early on, you'll be killed by a Vigilante or Jailor or even lynched before you can kill any others. You need to keep your roles a secret."

"_Ey_, what does Jester mean?" Spain hummed.

"I-Idiot, I just said that you're _not supposed to tell anyone_!"

"Oh, did you? My bad~ Whenever you speak, I tend to zone you out."

"You and me both," America and France chorused.

"Y-You-!"

Japan quickly spoke up again. "If you would now look around your room for a second time, you will see that it has changed according to your role. For example, an Arsonist would find many gallons of gasoline and lighters in their basement. A Jailor would find handcuffs and a pistol. It all depends on your role and its attributes, which you may access from either the role menu or the selection menu on your controller. Please familiarize yourself with the roles now as you will not be able to view them freely outside of the tutorial."

Silence. America could practically _hear _them all reading the definitions of the various roles. Good thing America knew them all already.

_The Jailor dude can capture one person per night and one-on-one message them. If they don't believe them about the role they claim to be or simply don't like 'em, they can execute them. Anyone in jail cannot be attacked by others._

_The Sheriff, the totally _awesome _role of Sheriff, is that of a man who can check one person each night for if they're suspicious or not. If they're part of the Mafia or a Serial Killer, the Sheriff will see, but if they are the Godfather they will appear to be not suspicious. Everyone else who is viewed by the Sheriff will merely be seen as 'not suspicious'._

_The Spy is pretty OP, but pretty rad at the same time. They can see what the Mafia is saying at night, as well as all of the messages that users private message to one another._

_The Medium is some satanic voodoo crap, in which at night the one with the role of Medium can talk to the dead. Useful but creepy. Super creepy._

_The Mayor is, as all of the other roles, unknown at the beginning, though they may choose when to reveal themselves as the Mayor. When they do, their votes count as three votes opposed to one. I really can't wait until England and Japan try to explain how the votes work; it'll take, at the very least, three years to get everybody on the same page if we're lucky._

Groan fuel, much?

"America, quite groaning in the middle of my explanations." England hissed.

"Right, yeah, okay." America huffed and returned into the shelter of his reverie.

_The Veteran is, well, a Veteran. They're a bit paranoid and on three nights of their choice can go on alert. To go on alert means that anyone who visits them, be it a Mafia member, a Serial Killer, an Investigator, or even a Bodyguard will be shot and killed by him, no matter who comes or how many._

_The Bodyguard is so painfully self-explanatory that it would just be sad if someone didn't understand. They guard anyone they please, and if the person they are guarding is attacked they kill the attacker and sacrifice themselves in the process. Bodyguards have one bulletproof vest, also known as one self-guard._

_The Townspeople all need to live to win. This means that they kill all of the Mafia, the Serial Killer, and all of the other bad guys like Arsonists or whatever._

_The Jester's purpose of survival is to be lynched. Again, I'm totes thrilled to see how explaining _this _will go over with the other nations. When lynched, the Jester may choose to exact revenge and kill one of those who voted against him. They win as soon as they are lynched._

_The Mafia is pretty ballin'. The Godfather has the power to kill anyone he pleases; he cannot be killed at night. This is also known as immunity. The other members of the Mafia are the mafioso, framer, and consigliere. The mafioso can suggest kills, and even kill on his own if the Godfather doesn't want to kill that night, but overall the mafioso's job is to be at the beck and call of the Godfather. The framer can frame (I'm sure it was hard to figure that one out) others to look guilty or suspicious if a Sheriff, Investigator, or otherwise happens to investigate them at night. The consigliere is pretty much a corrupt Investigator, or someone who once a night can determine the exact role of another player. The Mafia wins when all of the Townspeople are dead._

_The Serial Killer can kill one person a night, spare the Godfather and other immune players. Serial Killers are also immune. They win when all of the Townspeople and Mafia are dead._

_God, am I writing a novel or something? This is the last one as far as the tutorial goes. The Arsonist is a player whose job is to douse other players in gasoline and set them ablaze. The Arsonist wins when all of the other members have been burned. _

His train of thought was derailed at the sound of chuckling.

A slow, low chuckling that slowly escalated into a hearty laugh.

America's brows furrowed. "Who-?"

His words were cut off as the laugh only grew harder, wheezy and hysterical. "_M-Ma stai... scherzando?!"_

It was hard to mistake Veneziano's concerned voice; "_F-Fratello_, what's the matter?"

_Wait, that's Romano?! _America snorted obnoxiously as he forced his own laughs down to listen.

"Lookit how they-" Romano choked on his laughs. "Veneziano, look at how they describe the Mafia! Just look!"

Silence from Veneziano.

Then, a giggle.

In a matter of seconds both of the Italian brothers were roaring with laughter, hiccuping and giggling and audibly slapping at their knees and gasping for air.

"Please help!" Romano gasped, "I can't breathe!"

"R-Romano, I think you should calm down-" Spain started, though the laughter of the brothers only continued.

America slapped his face (causing the helmet to bump uncomfortably to his nose). "Hey, we did _research! _This is fairly accurate!"

"Apparently not accurate enough," Russia commented above the laughter of the pair of Italians.

England stammered for a moment before speaking coherently. "I believe now would be a good time to start the day. This is when you all go upstairs and leave your houses."

America pivoted around and trot up the stairs, sweeping his gaze around the innards of the main room. This was a single room that sported merely a bed, a small kitchen, a few windows and a few paintings. A door stood at the front of the house. America made towards it.

"_Angleterre,_ is there really nothing to be done about how _boring _this interior design is? _Anything_?"

"Anything?" England grunted. "Fine. Here you go."

A chime from the game console was followed by a sharp shattering sound that caused all of the players to jump.

"D-Did you just drop that flower pot on my character's head?!" France gasped.

"If only it could have been yours." England sighed. "Are you going to leave your house or will I need to chase you out with vases next?"

America decided it would be best to exit before England got to him, as well. He opened the door and stepped into the sunlight, squinting at the bright atmosphere the Romulus created.

He caught sight of his nearest neighbors; Austria and Hong Kong.

The houses were all placed in a large circle facing a single stage that served as some form of a town center. On the stage was placed a lyncher, fully equipped with a noose and stool to stand atop.

Austria looked towards America (he had seemingly discovered the character customization as well). "That's... quite a sight to see as soon as you leave your house."

America pursed his lips and '_ehhhh'_ed. "It's just a game."

"A bit gruesome, isn't it?" Finland's question indicated that he had picked up on their conversation via helmet.

"It isn't like there's blood or anything!" America assured with a smile. "You just kind of see the dude drop and they immediately dissipate, all ghost-like." He shrugged and added, "The player just sees a flash of red. We had to make this kid-friendly, remember?"

This seemed to appease both Austria and Finland.

One by one, the fifteen nations lined up.

"France, what…?" South Korea's expression was scrunched up.

France twirled from side to side where he stood, grinning. "'What' what? Do you not like it?"

"France, how did you even…" England spoke up, straining to pull together a sentence. "Those are essentially _pixels. _How did you _cut_ and _dye_ and _sew_ them into blue dresses?"

France released a string of chortles. "I have my ways~ At least I look better than Switzy over there."

Switzerland stiffened and took a step back as heads turned curiously towards him. "I… I didn't know you could customize your avatar. There is nothing to it."

While all of the other nations bore strong resemblance to themselves, Switzerland's model was that of a pilgrim man with a mustache.

A few stifled laughs slipped past their owner's attempts to hide them.

Veneziano piped up, "Switzerland, you look like a pedophile!"

If his brother commented, it was unheard (Japan and England had been left with no choice but to temporarily mute the Italian's microphone).

"I think you still look good, big brother." Liechtenstein called from afar.

Switzerland muttered under his breath and took another step back.

On either side of the lyncher spawned orbs of bright light; these orbs morphed into the outline of humans and were soon identifiable as holographic renditions of England and Japan, also donning the same style of olden clothes that the fifteen players did.

"I'm pretty sure holograms did not exist in the pilgrim age," South Korea quipped, tapping a toe irately to the ground. "I would know, seeing as I invented holograms."

"And _we_ invented this game, so shut face and enjoy it." America nodded towards England and Japan. "Would you continue, brosefs? I want to get started!"

England fidgeted with the clothes of his suit. "Yes, the sooner we finish the sooner you all can begin to play.

"This is known as the town center. As you can see, all of your houses face this stage in a circle. Japan and I may speak, but after the tutorial, our voices will sound something **like this. We will read commands and prompts, for example, What is your defense? Discussion. Judgement. Various narration rules such as this shall be partaken by Japan and I."**

"My narration will appear _**like this.**_" Japan added.

Many of the nations cast each other looks. Hungary finally dared to ask the question that was evidently gnawing at all of their minds. "What is the purpose of the… the hanging device there in the center?"

Japan gestured towards the lyncher. "This is where the Townspeople may hang those they find suspicious or dangerous based on votes. For example, the Serial Killer and Godfather are immune at night. Many roles also do not have the opportunity to kill other players. By voting the players you suspect as evil up to the stage and further voting them as guilty, they will be lynched and you can win, assuming you are a townsperson. If you are in the Mafia, you may vote for a townsperson and, assuming the others believe you when you claim they are dangerous, you may lynch them. It all depends on how you use your role and other's trust to your advantage."

"Then the answer is easy," Switzerland growled. "Trust noone."

"Not necessarily," Austria replied. "What if another player is on your side and you lynch them because you don't trust them?"

"Then you lose." Hong Kong evenly replied. Both of the Europeans winced.

"Prior to voting, you will have about half of an hour to discuss any leads or suspicions you have." England either didn't hear the nations or didn't care. "You may use this time to frame another player, justify another player, or simply try and gain information. It is up to you."

"Wait, Godzilla-brows, back up; did you say _half an hour_? I have my soap operas tonight, I can't miss them!" Prussia objected, marching towards England.

England walked to the edge of the stage so that he could look down on the albino. "Don't soil yourself just yet, Prussia; the game is designed so that every ten minutes in-game is only one minute out here. You won't miss your soaps."

Prussia stepped away with a mollified mumble.

The Briton rolled his eyes and continued. "We will run a discussion trial now. Japan, please initiate this."

**Hai. **_**You now have thirty minutes for discussion. Today's public vote and trial will now begin.**_

America looked over the sea of faces. "So here's the part where you ask and talk about leads!"

Finland's character shuffled forward. "Aren't Serial Killers bad guys?"

"Obviously," Austria replied.

America nodded. "What of it?"

Finland pointed to Russia. "Earlier, you asked why the game had called you a Serial Killer."

Russia turned to look at him.

Finland quickly added with a nervous smile, "E-Err. I think. Maybe. You might have said that."

"He did." Sweden grunted from where he stood. Russia turned a patient smile on the Nordic.

"I recall that too." Hong Kong's eyes narrowed slightly as he looked over Russia.

Russia smiled. "It looks like I cannot get out of this one. What happens next, England?"

**Well, that's up to the town. They can vote if they want to lynch you or not. **England's hologram made a gesture strangely akin to typing in midair. **One moment, I'm adding your CC cards… done.**

A chime sounded in the helmets of all of the players.

_**If you will look in your pockets,**_Japan's hologram reached into his own pocket and presented a small, fist-sized tablet. It appeared to be that of a rounded sheet of glass though as the Japanese man held it up, one could see the words that covered its screen. _**You may message another member privately using this, but keep in mind all members will receive a notification of who is sending and who is receiving. These cards may be used to cast votes as well. You would use them now to cast a vote against Russia. Because there are fifteen players, you will need eight votes to send him to trial.**_

Russia clasped his hands behind his back and nodded. "Go on! Enjoy this chance to win as it is not going to come again."

America reached into his pocket and pulled out his CC, undeterred by the subtle threat. "A'ight!" There was a list of the townspeople on the screen; he tapped on Russia's name.

**America has voted against Russia.**

America beamed and wiggled his device. "Nifty, huh? It took forever and a day to code this sucker!"

**Finland has voted against Russia.**

_**Sweden has voted against Russia.**_

"Why is this called a CC? Chat Console?" South Korea asked as he carefully observed the device.

**South Korea has voted against Russia.**

_**Ahh, that actually is because we based its design off of an average credit card.**_

"You weren't supposed to them that!" America hissed, folding his arms.

**Switzerland has voted against Russia.**

**Hong Kong has voted against Russia.**

**Russia has voted against America.**

"Dude! Really?"

_**Hungary has voted against Russia.**_

_**Austria has voted against Russia.**_

Russia followed England's lead and took a place atop the stage.

**Russia. You are on trial for conspiracy against the town. What is your defense?**

_**If you had any defense for yourself, here is where you would be granted five minutes to say it.**_

"It looks like there is none." Russia smiled at those surrounding him.

**The town may now vote on the fate of Russia. Use your CC card to cast a guilty or innocent vote, or you may abstain.**

_**America has voted. South Korea has voted. **_Japan read off the nations as they cast votes.

A bell chimed.

**The town has decided to lynch Russia on a vote of seven to zero.**

_**Finland has abstained.**_

America heaved a laugh and pointed at the Russian. "Looks like this is the end of the line for you, man!"

Russia stood atop a stool, the noose nestled around his neck. Even as a cartoon, America couldn't help but feel a chilling pang.

**Do you have any last words?**

"'Kid-friendly' my ass!" Switzerland scoffed.

Russia shrugged and his eyes flashed with malice. "_The real game will be so much fun~"_

**May God have mercy on your soul, Russia.**

The stool was kicked out from under Russia. In a cartoonish puff of light Russia vanished into thin air.

The Townspeople looked around, breath bated.

"Is… is that it?" Veneziano squeaked.

_**Well, not quite. The Medium may talk to the dead at night. At this point, night would begin, and the next goal would be for the Townspeople to lynch all of the Mafia or for the Mafia to eliminate all of the Townspeople.**_

"When does night begin?" Hungary tipped her head.

"Now," America replied, trotting towards his house with a wave.

As he spoke, the blue sky above adopted hues of oranges and reds and quickly grew dark. Other nations were quick to follow his lead and enter their houses.

**Once inside of your house, and depending on your role, certain actions may be available at night. For example, if you are in the Mafia, you may talk to one another to debate on who you will kill and who you will frame. Go to your basement to view possible actions. There is a timer on your CC that will allow you to see how much time is left during the night.**

America leapt down the stairs and flipped on the oil lamps, skidding to a halt before the Role Panel. _I'll investigate… _He rolled onto his toes as he swept his gaze over the list of names to the left of the white space (where he had drawn a heroic rendition of himself kicking France in the face) and pulled out his CC. _Hong Kong! It's not like we'll get much out of this guy anyways._

He spent the next couple of minutes addressing his wardrobe until the timer on his CC waned to nothing.

His field of vision suddenly flashed red.

"_What?!" _

_**You have died.**_

"No, _no! _What? This is unfair! Someone here is cheating!" America wailed as the red quickly faded to black.

His hands first came into view; a ghostly, translucent white replaced what had once been skin. Then into his vision came his house; he picked himself up off of the floor and trot with a trail of incessant grumbles into the town center. The nations were again beginning to gather.

Russia exited his house as well, though he bore the same ghostly properties as America. "_Privet_, America! Welcome to the dead!"

America groaned. "Now I have to listen to yourannoying voice."

Russia moved alarmingly close to America. "But nobody else can hear you right now asides from me! Our words, laughs, screams, all unheard..."

"Uhh... right. Let's see what they say about the death." America shifted away from Russia and focused on the town center.

America's body was strewn just before the stage. While looking very cartoonish and silly, America continued to get dark vibes from this game. He shuddered.

"Oh…" Hungary shot Austria a glance, who blinked and eyed the corpse with unease.

**America was killed last night. He was killed by a member of the Mafia.**

_**We could not find a last will. As players, you all have the option to compose a will and keep it on your person; it is suggested you write leads or suspicions here as other players can pick up with your information and continue on after you have died. **_

"Way to leave us hanging, America." France snorted, staring daggers at the dead body.

"Too soon, my friend. Too soon." Prussia slowly shook his head at the pun.

**America's role was Sheriff.**

_**Today's public vote and trial will now begin.**_

"Erm… leads?" Finland tentatively spoke up. "He left no will..."

"Nothin'." Sweden grunted.

"Nothing." Hong Kong was quick to second the Swedish man.

"Investigator here." Prussia waved his wrist and cleared his throat. "I investigated France last night. He is a role that gathers information, but as far as I can tell there can only be one Investigator. What role does that make you, France?" Prussia shoved his hands into his pockets and strolled towards the Frenchman, his chin reclined back.

France lifted his own chin to meet the challenge, smiling easily. "Ah, it is easy, isn't it? To frame me and trick the whole town into thinking I am the evil one? I am the civilian Investigator! You are the Consigliere of the Mafia, and your sole intent is to get me lynched so that you will be the only searching class standing!"

America perked a brow. "Intense," He mused.

Russia shrugged. "It is hard to tell who is who without further evidence."

Hungary cleared her throat. "I oversaw the meeting of the Mafia last night." She hesitated and added, "I'm the Spy."

"What about it?" Spain's eyes were lit with curiosity.

"You see, the Mafia did not use a word of French, but I did notice that one of the Mafia was using a considerable amount of _German…_"

Prussia rolled a shoulder and frowned. "So? You use a lot of German. Austria uses a lot of German. Switzerland and Liechtenstein can speak German. A lot of us speak German!"

"Yes, but… only one nation would use the word '_supergeil'_ as much as it was." All was silent as she moved forward and spoke again. "_Supergeil _roughly translates into the English equivalent of _awesome._"

The air crackled with tension.

Hungary smiled with the intent of a tiger while Prussia returned the gesture with the ferocity of a lion.

The nations watched, not daring to breathe.

"Hooooly hell!" America hopped about, shoving Russia roughly on the shoulder and pointing. "Hungary's got him cornered!"

**Eight votes are needed to send someone to trial. You may now begin voting.**

The CCs glinted in the afternoon sunlight as nations pulled them from their pockets.

_**Hungary has voted against Prussia.**_

_**France has voted against Prussia.**_

**Prussia has voted against France.**

**Austria has voted against Prussia.**

The chime of a bell soon sounded as England read off the names. The Briton summoned Prussia onto the stage.

**You are on trial for conspiracy against the town. What is your defense?**

Prussia was glaring crimson daggers at those around him as America watched intently.

"So when push comes to shove, it's because I'm albino, isn't it?"

England cleared his throat. **The town may now vote on the fate of Prussia.**

Japan read off the names of players as they voted. It was a matter of heartbeats before all had cast their votes.

**The town has decided to lynch Prussia on a vote of five to three.**

Prussia carefully eyed the noose he now wore and snorted. "This doesn't hurt, right?"

**Not at all. **England's hologram had placed a foot on the stool when he halted, looking over to Japan. Japan stared back at him. They shared a nod.

England moved away from Prussia and faced the crowd of nations.

**We believe that now would be an appropriate time to end the tutorial and start the real game.**

Japan nodded and added, _**What you have seen are the basic mechanics of the game. While the roles and approaches by the players change, the rules and overall goals do not. **_

America frowned. He had been looking forward to sneering at Prussia as soon as he arrived in the realm of the Medium.

**Do you all understand the game?**

A beat of silence.

"Yeah! Let's do this!" South Korea cheered.

Prussia wrestled to remove the noose from his neck and nodded. "Fair enough. Let's start!"

"I'm still a little bit confused." Austria grumbled.

"I'll help you," Hungary assured with a determined nod.

The nations one by one piped up or remained silent.

"It isn't too hard," Hong Kong huffed. "Not with a touch of practice and wit."

"Let's get started, it'll be fun!" Veneziano threw up his arms happily. "Can we, England? Japan?"

The two island nations once again exchanged a glance.

**Yes. Yes, we can.**

_**We'll begin the new game now, if everyone is ready.**_

"Just get it over with." Switzerland growled.

"I look forward to beating you next round, America." Russia held out his hand.

America firmly shook it. "Nice joke!"

"We're all ready!" Finland assured.

The helmets of the players were consumed by a blinding white.

**Let us begin the new game.**

* * *

**"Finally, an appropriately placed line break. You'd think the authors didn't know what they were doing..."**

"Mr. England, please begin the closing remarks."

"Oh, of course! Ahem. This chapter was a summary of the gameplay for those who were not familiar with the game Town of Salem. We hope that you will be able to follow along. This chapter's intention was also to allow those who have played the game to be accustomed to the changes we have made; we needed to adjust the gameplay into literature format. We hope you understood our description of the game."

"The authors greatly appreciate any support you leave. Did they elaborate the gameplay sufficiently? Or perhaps too much? Do any of the characters need more work? Comments? Please remember to leave a review on the chapter if it is not out of your way."

"Unless you're complaining about the loss of an eye. We can't help you there; sorry, lad."

"The next chapter will contain the new roles, as well as a new feature addition to the game. It is also a beta that will most likely not make a public release until we can correct the, ahh... _unfortunate bug._"

"R-Right. But in the case of the players, I'm sure that they can handle it, can't they?"

"... I believe so."

"Good. All we can do now is wait and see. Finish us off, Japan."

"The author wishes to thank you for reading and for your continued support. Please make sure to return for the next chapter. _Sayonara._"


End file.
